I’ve worked with two very different patient populations—pediatrics and memory care.
And honestly? There’s not much of a difference.

Someone is always asking for snacks… or ice cream… like they haven’t eaten all day.

In pediatrics, giving medication? You better tap into your inner negotiator. We’re talking bribery, bargaining, and Oscar-worthy performances just to get Tylenol down.

In memory care, it’s:
“What is this?”
“I don’t take that.”
“This isn’t mine.”

…followed by a grunt, an eye roll, and suspicion like I just made it up.

And no matter where you are, you’re constantly telling someone to sit down because apparently everyone is a fall risk.

Then there’s the wandering.

In memory care, you turn around for two seconds and somehow someone is making a B-line at the exit!

In pediatrics? Blink once and a child is suddenly standing on the exam table for absolutely no reason.

The redirecting never ends.

“Let’s stay out of there.”
“Let’s sit down.”
“Let’s not lick that.”
Healthcare is basically just gentle parenting in scrubs.

And don’t even get me started on repeating questions.

In memory care, it’s:
“Can I go to bed now?”
“Can I go to the bathroom?”
“What are we doing?”

On repeat. All shift long.

In pediatrics, it’s:
“Are we done yet?”
“Did you do it yet?”

Usually while the needle is literally still in their arm.

But honestly, both populations have something in common.

They can make you laugh, test your patience, and melt your heart all within the same five minutes.

And somehow, even on the exhausting days, those little moments are what stay with you.

At the end of the day, whether it’s toddlers or memory care…
it’s the same chaos—just different size humans.

And me?
Just trying to keep it together one shift at a time… with a little side eye.

— Scrubs & Side Eyes
From toddlers to dementia—just trying to keep it together one shift at a time.